


About A Man (and His Neighbor and Her Ex and His Fiance)

by truthtakestime



Category: About a Boy (TV 2014)
Genre: Character Growth, Families of Choice, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Neighbors, Other, Post-Series, accidental OD, the Bowas have boundary issues, trigger warning, very confusing relationship statuses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7232584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truthtakestime/pseuds/truthtakestime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All that Will had wanted from his afternoon – the only thing! – was a couple of hours to grill and drink beer and be left alone. But Fiona had showed up, and then Hugh (with a new fiance, Will was going to be sick), and suddenly things were Very Messy. </p>
<p>Will wasn't prepared for Messy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About A Man (and His Neighbor and Her Ex and His Fiance)

**Author's Note:**

> I thought, when I finished this show (months and months ago, I've been sitting on this piece FOREVER ), I thought I had closure. I really did. And then I lived with it for a few weeks and realized that I had actually no closure whatsoever and I couldn't handle it. So this was my attempt at closure.
> 
> WARNING: blanket trigger warning, there's an accidental OD that's briefly misunderstood as a attempted suicide.

It was shaping up to be the perfect day.

Things had quieted down a lot since Marcus's school dance. After he'd succeeded in winning Shea back (and how _did_ a dorky twelve year old have more game than Will?), there had been significantly less drama all around. Sure, Liz still wasn't returning Will's calls...but that was a minor setback. Nothing to worry about. And he and Fiona had been carefully avoiding each other after that terribly awkward, never-to-be-spoken-of-again-or-even-thought-of moment that had been _completely_ caused by high emotions and alcohol and had absolutely _not_ been enjoyable in the least. So he didn't have to worry about drama from that, either.

In fact, according to his calendar (which Marcus had ever so thoughtfully hacked his and Fiona's schedules into somehow), both of his neighbors were out for the afternoon. Which meant that for once he could actually enjoy his Will-time. He could chill in his yard, grill some steaks and knock back a few beers without worrying about any interruptions. It would be relaxing. It had been a while since he'd tried that.

“Hey, Will! What are you doing?”

Will sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Was this Karma, or Murphy's Law that was happening to him right now? He could never remember which one _sucked more_. “Hey, Marcus. I thought that you and Shea were, ah, going to the movies today. I thought, actually, that you were supposed to leave like, an hour ago. Does your mom know about this change in plans?”

Shea's head popped out of the tree house beside Marcus's. “Why don't you call her and find out?” she asked with a smirk.

With what he felt was great fortitude, Will resisted the urge to say some very unkind, grown-up words to the troublemaker. He'd always known that Shea would cause him more trouble than she was worth one day. Unlike Marcus, she had _noticed_ that Will and Fiona were actively avoiding each other.

She'd counted on it, the little brat.

“No, I think that it's a man's place to inform his own mother of his plans,” Will shrugged, putting on his Most Casual Voice. He wasn't going to be bullied by a thirteen year old. “I'm just the neighbor.”

“Since when has that ever stopped you from doing anything before? Ever?” Marcus asked, honestly curious.

Okay, this whole “taunt the neighbor from the safety of my tree house” thing was getting really old. “While I could give you the list – alphabetically, chronologically, or by the level of emotional fallout – I think I'm just gonna go back to grilling and enjoying my Will-Time before your mom gets home in like...” Will glanced at his watch, “...twenty minutes, and complains about the smoke in the yard.”

Shea rolled her eyes. “Whatever, you big baby,” she snorted.

Marcus got a chuckle out of that, which was almost worth the humiliation of being insulted by a middle school girl. But on the other hand... “Yeah, I really wasn't kidding about you two cutting into my grilling time; so if you could just pop your little heads back inside, I'd really appreciate it.”

“What's this? You two never went out?”

Marcus, at least, had the decency to look guilty. Shea just shrugged. Will barely resisted the urge to leap on top of his grill and roast to death instead of dealing with Fiona right that second. He wasn't mentally prepared for that yet.

Fortunately, for the moment he was not the center of attention. Fiona was paused halfway across the yard, content to hold conversation with the tree house dwellers from the ground. “Not that I mind the two of you mucking about here while I'm gone, of course,” which was kind of a lie, but Will wasn't about to get involved, “but I thought you had plans! Wasn't there a movie you wanted to see?”

“We were gonna go...” Marcus began shakily, sounding unreasonably guilty.

“We were having more fun talking,” Shea cut in smoothly, rolling onto her back and eyeing Fiona from upside down. She smirked again. “Sharing our feelings and stuff.”

Either Fiona missed the sarcasm in her tone, or she ignored it. “Well, alright, then. Just so long as you're not taking any advice from my interfering neighbor, have fun.”

Crap. She'd noticed him after all.

“Really, Will?” And apparently she read minds today, too. Fantastic. Just great. “Hiding behind your disgusting, smoking grill with a six pack on the side isn't really disguising your presence. Though the fact that you think you're important enough right now to warrant my attention is rather amusing, if juvenile.”

All that Will had wanted from this afternoon – the only thing! – was a couple of hours to grill and drink beer and be left alone. Was that immature? Possibly. But didn't he deserve a little Will-time after everything she'd put him through? He wasn't up for the judgment right now. “For your information, Fiona, I _wasn't_ hiding from you.”

“Oh, really?”

No. “Yes.” He gave it a beat. “But the fact that you think you're scary enough that I'd want to hide is pretty funny, actually.”

“Oh!” She leveled a finger at him and narrowed her eyes. “For your information, Will, I am bloody _terrifying_. And if you think –”

“Fifi? What's going on?”

Fiona gasped and spun around. Marcus shrieked. Shea sat up quickly and disappeared into the tree house.

Will seriously contemplated the “roasting himself on his own grill” option.

“Hugh!” Fiona was all surprise and nerves and a little bit of that longing that had so disturbed Will the last time Marcus's father was in town. “What are you doing here? You didn't even call! When did you get in?”

Marcus was already halfway out of the tree house. “Dad, I've got so much to tell you!”

“Hold on, Marcus. I asked your mother a question.”

Actually, Fiona had asked _him_ a few. If he was involved in this weird little family thing that was happening – which he wasn't – Will might have mentioned that. But he slouched a little lower behind his grill and and debated the best angle to sit on it, if things were going to come to that. He'd want it to be a quick death, after all.

“Who's the blonde?” Shea asked into the awkward pause that was happening. She was poking her head out of the tree house again, pointing to a pretty blonde woman – _whoa hold up Will, double take because smoking hot woman!_ – who had appeared beside Hugh. And she was...wait, why was she putting her arms around him?

Ew, gross!

“Who is that frightening-looking child hanging out of the tree house?” Hugh countered with his usual impeccable tact.

Marcus paused, a confused frown twisting his features. “That's Shea, my girlfriend. I told you about her, remember?”

“Oh, right, of course.” Hugh didn't look like he remembered, but with him that didn't mean much. Then his face brightened. “Well, that is something of a spectacular coincidence then, isn't it? This is _my_ girlfriend, Helga.” He turned and smiled at the blonde on his arm, and Will was pretty sure he threw up in his mouth a little. Oh, it was so much worse than he'd imagined. “She's part of a Norwegian science team that I've been working with in Antarctica for the last six months. And, well, technically she's my fiance; but there's not even a justice of the peace in Antarctica, am I right?”

“But –”

With his typical disregard for anything not his idea, Hugh steamrolled right over his son's question. “Anyways, that's why we're in San Francisco, to get married. Isn't that great? We'll be here for about three days getting everything signed and settled. Will, are your sheets still as bad as they were the last time I was here? You remember I got the most wicked rash...”

This was shaping up to be the worst day in the history of the world.

–

“Can he please stay at your house again?”

Will gaped. Hugh and Helga were still outside, boring the kids with a re-enactment of a penguin mating ritual. Or maybe frightening them. Will knew that _he_ would be having nightmares for weeks. But at the moment, he was finding the idea of that torture preferable to what Fiona was suggesting.

“No, Fiona! He absolutely cannot, under any circumstances whatsoever, stay with me! Especially not _with her_ , with me. Do you know how many kinds of wrong that is? Ew! They are not _doing_ it on my furniture!”

Fiona, as usual, seemed to be entirely missing his point. “Oh, what then? You think it's better if he stays at _my_ place and sleeps on _my_ furniture then, do you? That I should just let Hugh and bloody Helga stay with me while they're shopping around for a justice of the peace and filling out paperwork? Do you really think that would be what's best for _anyone_ involved right now?”

“Yes!” She was still missing his point. Why did she have to be so stubborn all the time? “It's what's best for _me_ , Fiona! Listen, I sympathize, I really do, because Hugh is the biggest jackass that I know; but I am not a part of this weird little family unit. And, quite frankly, it isn't my responsibility to help you take care of your weird, creepy ex and his new wife!”

“You –!” She made a sound that Will wasn't entirely sure was human, then visibly tried to collect herself. “You are the most selfish, egotistical, heartless bastard that I have ever had the misfortune of knowing!”

Which was not entirely unfair; but also, not precisely true. “That sounds like Hugh to me,” he pointed out.

“Stop it!” She shoved him, harder than Will thought was necessary. That actually startled him a little bit. When had things escalated so far? “Just stop! Shut the hell up and get out of my house!” Fiona was still pushing him, towards the front door and away from witnesses. For a second, Will was almost afraid of her. “I don't want you here, I can't do this anymore! Just get the hell out and leave us alone!” With one final shove, she managed to get him out the door, which she promptly slammed in his face.

Will was more than a little confused. And really annoyed. How had his afternoon gone from “Will-time with a nice lunch and some drinks and no drama with the neighbors” to “I just got dramatically kicked out of my neighbor's house because I don't want her ex and his hot fiance to stay with me”?

He needed advice. And since Marcus was otherwise occupied and Fiona had scared him more than a little just there, that left him with one option. Andy. He needed Andy.

–

“Dude, you're an idiot.”

Will would never understand how Andy could have a kid strapped to his front and back, clean a living room of a thousand scattered legos, snack on cheerios from his kids plates, and _still_ manage to make him feel like the biggest douchebag on the planet.

Not that he was ever going to admit any of that, of course.

“What? Am I _wrong_ for not wanting Fiona's creepy ex and his admittedly smoking hot fiance to sleep in my house over the weekend? Boundaries are a thing, man! I know I don't always have the best ones, but Hugh is not a line that I have a problem drawing!”

“And I get that, I do. But telling her to just suck it up and let the guy she used to be in love with stay at her house with his new woman, really? That's like, completely insensitive, dude.”

Okay. When he put it like that, Will realized that he may have been just a _little_ bit out of line. But it was still completely unfair of her to ask him for that favor. “It's still completely unfair that she even asked me,” he complained. “Hugh is creepy and gross, and the only reason I never told him to go screw himself is because he's Marcus's dad and I would never want _him_ to find out that I'd said something like that.” He paced restlessly, trying not to trip over the legos that Andy had missed in his initial sweep. “If it's really that much of a problem to keep him there, why not just get him a hotel?”

“Will, Fiona can't afford to put them up in a hotel.”

Will ignored him. “She has no right to ask me to do stuff like that! And she kicked me out when I said I was uncomfortable with it, which is like, totally unreasonable!”

“Not really that unreasonable,” Andy pointed out tiredly. Which Will was sure he didn't mean to say.

“I mean, I'm there for her kid, for her even, for _everything_ , and it's cost me my job and my relationships and a variety of very attractive hookups....”

“You never had a job, Will.”

“...But it's not my job to be there for them! I was supposed to be like, an island, man. And then somehow they came in and they just, they invaded Will's World and just screwed everything up and I was perfectly happy before they moved in! I just can't deal with this anymore.”

The sighing and eye-rolling that Andy was doing was really not the kind of advice or support that Will had been looking for. “Will, you're over-reacting. Hey, why don't you try, just for a minute, try seeing the situation from Fiona's point of view? Just for fun.”

By which Will was sure Andy meant, 'you don't have to put up with all of this anymore, buddy'. Which was an excellent point. “You know what? You're right.”

“Wait, really? You're agreeing with me?”

“Absolutely!” Will nodded. “You're saying that I don't have to put up with all of this crap anymore. She wants to kick me out after everything I've done for her―them? Fine! Consider me gone! From this point on, Will Freeman is an island, a lone wolf.” He moved in for a hug, feeling the need to express his gratitude for the advice, but stopped short when one of the kids shrieked. He settled for a firm shoulder-pat. “Good talk, buddy. Thanks for helping me straighten things out.”

Andy had that weird look on his face again, the one he generally got after giving Will advice. He looked constipated. “You didn't hear a word that I said, did you?”

“Of course I did, buddy.” Luckily, Will was really good at translating Andy. “You know, we should do this more often, the whole you giving me good advice and fixing all my problems for me thing. It's...very freeing.” He took a deep breath. “Now, if you'll excuse me, this island hears and Asiago calling his name.”

“There are no bagels on islands, Will!”

Fortunately, Will had stopped paying attention by that point. There really _was_ a bagel calling to him, ready to celebrate his freedom. And it was certainly louder than Marcus's twenty text messages that he had been ignoring. Fiona had said to stay out of their lives, and he was going to do exactly what he'd been told. And to think he'd ever even questioned if the moment they'd shared (and had never happened!) had meant something.

–

Being an island worked great, for about the time it took to pick up a batch of bagels and get comfortable on his couch with them. Will was just reaching for the remote when he heard the dreaded sound of the dumbwaiter creaking open. “No, no, no, no!”

“Will, get over here! I need to talk to you.”

_No._ “I can't talk right now, Marcus! I am an island. A lone wolf. A vigilante!”

“Yeah, that's great, but can you do all those things later? I'm kind of in the middle of a crisis here!”

Will was actually a little surprised that the kid wasn't already flopped on the couch next to him. But so far he'd stayed on his side of the dumbwaiter, which meant that he should enforce that boundary before Marcus got the wrong idea. “Look, no offense dude, but I can't help you anymore. Your mom kinda freaked on me, I'm pretty sure she doesn't want me speaking to you ever again. Like, ever.”

“She doesn't,” Marcus confirmed, typically blunt. Which was oddly endearing. _Stop it! You are an island, not a tourist resort._

“Look, I'm sure that whatever you're dealing with, your mom can handle it just fine. Or why don't you ask Shea? She seems to be the worldly, knowledgeable type.” Which was only slightly sarcastic.

“Shea went home,” Marcus sighed. “She said that my dad and Helga were grossing her out.”

One point for Shea. “Yeah, that's not really a surprise, dude.”

“Will!” The scraping of sneakers against wood, and the telltale thump of an intruder on his premises. Very resolutely, Will did not turn around. Maybe if he was very quiet and still, Marcus would lose interest and go away. “ _Will!_ ” Or not. “Will, this is really serious. My mom is kind of scaring me.”

It wasn't Will's business. In fact, it was so far out of the realm of his business that Will didn't even want to kind of think about it. Covering his ears and drowning Marcus out was the only viable solution. “She scared you, too? Dude, I totally thought I was the only one!” Or he could just open his big mouth and get right in the middle of it. Yeah. That worked too. “She was like, yelling and stuff, and she kicked me out of your house and everything. Is she still mad?”

“Mad?” Marcus frowned. That threw Will for a bit of a loop; he _had_ been talking about Fiona being mad, right? “When she came back outside after you left, she was crying. And then she told my dad and Helga that they could stay with us, then went upstairs to her room and started crying again. She's been up there for like, two hours...it's really starting to freak me out.”

Okay, that was a little bit weird and uncomfortable. And possibly a little bit his fault? But he hadn't meant to make her that upset; he'd gone through all of this with Andy. He just didn't want creepy Hugh living in his house. _Stop thinking like that. You're not responsible for her problems._

“Didn't she do that a couple of months ago when Mr. Chris left?” Will pointed out carefully. More than likely, Andy had actually hit on something when he'd said Hugh was upsetting her; but he wasn't about to badmouth Marcus's dad to him, that wasn't his place. Even if the bastard deserved it. “Maybe something reminded her of that.”

After a thoughtful moment, Marcus shook his head. “No, we completed all the mourning rituals for Mr. Chris. It can't be that. In fact, the only significant loss she's experienced in the last few hours...” Will leaned forward hopefully. Marcus was a smart kid. Maybe he was finally starting to understand his parent's relationship for what it was. It would be a relief if he'd figured it out on his own; Will had always secretly dreaded having to one day field _that_ particular question. “...By your own admission, the only thing she's lost today is _you_ , Will.”

What the _hell_?

Will gaped. “Yeah, no...you wanna run that by me again, dude?”

“You said that she kicked you out.” Marcus ticked off the items his fingers as he went. “Right after she did that to _you_ , she came outside crying. And she's been crying ever since. Oh!” Marcus gasped, and Will cringed. _This can't be happening._ Of all the ridiculous theories the kid could have come up with, this had to be the worst possible thing. “She's made a terrible mistake!” he yelled suddenly. “She kicked you out on accident, and now she's depressed!”

“Marcus, I really don't think that's why –”

“All you have to do is come over and apologize to her, and then everything will be okay! Why didn't I think of that sooner?”

Okay, this had gone too far, and Will had to stop the runaway train before it ran him down. “Hey! This is not a good idea, Marcus.'

“You're right...it's a _great_ one!”

“No!” Will grabbed the kid by the shoulders and made eye contact. It was pretty much the exact opposite of not getting involved, but what Marcus was suggesting was even worse. Not that any of this was even Marcus's fault. But he was interpreting the available information wrong, and it was going to end badly. Time to straighten the kid out before he made things worse. “Listen, Marcus, your mom doesn't want to see me again. Ever.”

The kid's face fell. “That's not true, Will. She just...made a mistake. She didn't mean it.”

Hell, when had it become his job to do this? “She did mean it, Marcus. She was _violently_ clear on the subject.” Which was completely unlike Fiona, which had made it that much more terrifying.

“But...we're neighbors.”

“I know.” He patted Marcus on the shoulder awkwardly. “Hey, this doesn't change anything about the two of us, okay? You can still text me and come over and steal ribs and stuff, once she's in a better mood. But your mom and I...we're not friends anymore. And sometimes that's just how life works.”

Marcus's head was hanging, and he looked like he was about to burst into tears or slip into a fugue state. Neither of which Will was even remotely prepared to deal with. He was relieved when the kid whispered, “But we need you.”

“No, you don't.” Will was never having kids. This one wasn't even _his_ kid, there was no reason the conversation should hurt so much. “You guys haven't needed me for a long time now. What your mom needs right now is _you_ , buddy. Don't let her get so sad that she has to dig another Pit of Despair or whatever that thing was.”

“The Memory Hole,” Marcus mumbled.

“Yeah, that.” Will sighed. “Look, you had better get back before she finds you and bites _my_ head off. Your mom is even scarier angry than she is sad, you know.”

“Yeah, sure.” Marcus sounded unconvinced, but he did trudge obediently back towards the dumbwaiter.

At the last minute, Will thought of an important question he should probably clarify. “Hey, by the way,” he asked in his Most Causal Voice, because he wasn't asking because he cared _in the least_ , “What ended up happening with your dad and Helga? Where are they?”

Marcus glanced back at him. “I told you, Mom said they could stay with us for the weekend. But they went out a little while ago to file some paperwork, or something like that. Dad said that Mom's crying was stressing him out.”

“Did he really?” Will was careful to keep on being The Most Casual Ever, but what he _wanted_ was to say some very uncomplimentary things that he hoped Marcus never learned. While he and Fiona were no longer on speaking terms, that didn't mean he didn't have the urge to punch Hugh in the teeth for being so shockingly insensitive. Her crying was stressing _him_ out? Will could show him stressed out.

“Helga agreed, I think,” Marcus was saying. “She really doesn't speak that much English, so I can't vouch for what she said.” He paused as Fiona's tearful voice floated through the dumbwaiter, calling his name. “Oops! Gotta go. Can you just think about apologizing to my mom, Will? Please?” Thankfully, he ducked through and closed the dumbwaiter before Will had to respond to that.

He flopped back on the couch again, running his hands through his hair. He needed a pep talk. “It's not your problem, dude,” he muttered. “So not your problem. Fiona and Hugh are adults, they can deal with their own crap. It's none of your business. You are an island.”

Now he just needed to believe it.

–

In retrospect, Will realized he should have set some guidelines along with his assurances to Marcus that he was still available via text. The rest of the afternoon was punctuated by updates at regular intervals regarding the state of Fiona's emotions.

_MARCUS_  
third hour  
still crying  
5:02 

_MARCUS_  
made mom tea  
5:17 

_MARCUS_  
didn't help  
5:18 

_MARCUS_  
tried singing  
5:29 

_MARCUS_  
please try apologizing, running out of ideas  
5:31 

_MARCUS_  
still crying  
5:37 

_MARCUS_  
dad and helga are back, they found a justice of the peace for tomorrow and they want me to witness  
5:48 

_MARCUS_  
mom is still crying  
5:50 

Will buried his face in his hands. This was ridiculous. He had tried his best to ignore the barrage of messages; he'd tried tv, video games, blasting music, locking himself in his room and tooling around on the guitar. Nothing was working. It was making him so upset he'd lost his appetite; he couldn't even enjoy his Asiagos! The problem that was _not his problem_ was that distracting.

_Marcus:_  
helga asked for steak  
mom's crying again  
6:10 

This was getting out of hand.

_WILL_  
invite your dad and helga out to dinner, give your mom some space  
6:12 

And Will. Will needed some space; if Marcus was out to dinner, then there wouldn't be a Fiona update every five minutes for at least an hour or two. Maybe he could finally relax enough to eat his cold bagels. _Seriously_. He had to have done something totally awful in a past life, because he certainly hadn't done anything as Will Freeman that was enough to deserve the torture he was being put through. _Crap, I even sound like them. They're in my head!_

Time for some hard rock; Will needed a reality check.

_I am an island._

Rapid pounding on his door was the last straw. Seriously? “Marcus, I thought we agreed you were gonna keep your distance for a couple of days until your mom – oh my gosh you are not Marcus, you've got to be _kidding_ me!”

Hugh made an uncomfortable looking face. It was probably supposed to be some kind of friendly expression, but on him it looked a little more like a heart attack. “Hello, Will. I see that you still manage to maintain my son's affection through your deceit and worldliness.

Will narrowed his eyes and leaned on the door frame, blocking Hugh out on the porch. “Hugh. Still living with complete disregard to anyone's needs but your own, I see.”

For a minute Hugh looked confused, but then something seemed to click and he nodded. “Ah, yes. I believe what you're doing is called 'posturing'; it's common behavior in the animal kingdom to assert dominance. And, occasionally, it's used by inferior life-forms like yourself when they feel themselves to be...lacking in other areas.” He gave Will a significant look.

Will wanted to throw up. Which he supposed could have been the cold Asiagos, but was probably just Hugh. “Okay, first of all, I am not _lacking_ in any areas; but maybe you're feeling insecure, since you brought it up. Secondly, ew! That's disgusting, that's not an image that I ever needed in my head. Can I pour acid on my brain to erase it, is that a thing? So gross.” He shuddered.

“While not physically possible without first removing a portion of the skull, I will say that if you managed it, you wouldn't be doing much damage to your overall intelligence.”

“You know what –?” The only thing ( _the only thing_ ) that stopped Will from ignoring the consequences and giving a solid left-hook to Hugh's jaw was Marcus and Helga waiting in a cab at the curb. Not the audience he wanted for a father-figure brawl. He pounded his fist lightly against the door frame instead and took a deep breath. He could be the bigger man tonight. “What do you want, Hugh?”

“I'm taking Helga and Marcus to dinner; baby loves steak, and as you know Fifi doesn't keep that stuff in her house. Unless you wouldn't mind...?”

“If you ever even _try_ to set foot in my kitchen I will personally hunt you down and hide the body.”

“Right.” Hugh shrugged. “It never hurts to ask.”

“Oh, it does. Sometimes it hurts so much. _What do you want_?”

The awkward, unsure pause that followed was a new thing. In Will's experience, Hugh had never had any trouble speaking his mind before. “You seem...you seem to have an unexpected influence over them,” he finally managed. “Fifi and Marcus.”

“Dude, that's not even her name.”

“Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?”

“Honestly? Not even a little bit; but since you're already here you might as well spit it out before that cab leaves without you.”

“Okay, then.” Hugh took a deep breath, and Will rolled his eyes. The things he put up with for Marcus's sake. “Fifi has been very upset all afternoon. Now I don't know why, and she won't tell me, but it is very trying on myself and poor Helga. And since she seems to like you for some unfathomable reason, I was wondering if you could talk to her while we are out? Make her stop before we get back, because I am _not_ going to be able to sleep well with all of those unnecessary negative vibes.”

He was serious. It took Will a second to find his voice, because he was hung up on that bit of it. _He's serious._ “You honestly have no clue why she's upset, do you?”

Hugh rolled his eyes. “If I did, would I have lowered myself to come knocking on the door of a rival male?”

Will laughed, even though it wasn't actually funny at all. “You've got to be kidding me. You are even more selfish, self-centered, and clueless than I am; and I'm a hard act to beat. Wow.” And Fiona had thought he was bad. “Dude, _wake up_. You don't want her to be upset? Stop parading your young, blonde, super hot girlfriend around in front of her! Stop expecting her to let you two live here and plan your freaking wedding, when for the last twelve years you've done nothing but ignore her and Marcus. And then, when you do come back, it's only to remind them how much less important they are to you than your stupid penguins. Hell, I'd be pissed too!”

“Fifi has always been aware of the nature of our relationship.” Hugh frowned, rubbing his chin. “I don't see why she would choose now to start being upset about it.”

It was like talking to a wall. _Unbelievable_. “Understanding doesn't mean that she was ever _okay_ with it, dude! It sucks for her, it always has. Look, if you want to do Fiona a favor, get a hotel and leave her and Marcus alone.

“Oh, and by the way? I have _zero_ influence over Fiona. She hates my guts. But I think that right now, she probably hates you and Helga even more.” And with that, Will shut the door in Hugh's face. It was a nice, solid finish, very satisfying. He was actually a little bit proud of it.

That had felt...almost good. Freeing. More than his conversation with Andy had been. It was probably out of line, also, and definitely didn't fit in with his new life philosophy of being an island. It certainly didn't adhere to Fiona's whole “stay out of our lives” rule, but it had been necessary. Marcus was too young to understand, Fiona was never going to say it just by nature of who she was, and Hugh was totally clueless. Someone had to give it to him straight, even if it didn't change anything.

Will found to his surprise that he cared a _lot_ if it changed anything. As if it was his responsibility. As if he owed Fiona anything.

That scared him.

He wasn't supposed to be attached to _Fiona_ ; she was just the baggage that came along with Marcus. Mostly good baggage, but still baggage. She was nice – usually – and interesting and even amusing, but Will didn't owe her a damn thing. There weren't supposed to be feelings for her that were independent of Marcus.

Will had never signed on to care. This needed to be the last time he got involved; he'd even tell Marcus to back off for a while (and mean it this time). Caring meant that he had to _feel_ things, and feeling was uncomfortable. Feeling had always come back to bite him before. It was going to be the death of him if he kept on trying to care here.

This was the end of the line. From now on, Will was an actual island. No trespassers, tourists, or quirky neighbors. No more drama.

No more feelings.

–

Will turned his phone off. He went to bed early, and didn't bother to notice when Marcus and his dad got back from dinner. Not his business. When he heard the Bowa's back door open around midnight, he didn't look out his window.

It was only his imagination that he heard crying.

–

It was noon when Will finally woke up. Which was weird. Used to be, he could sleep until noon any day of the week; but usually Marcus had texted him by now, or called, or was in his kitchen cooking bacon so that his mom wouldn't know. The radio silence actually weirded him out a little.

He'd blame it on a bad night's sleep, but it took Will nearly ten minutes to remember that he hadn't gotten any calls or texts because he had turned his phone off. Because he was setting boundaries.

“Oh, right.” Fiona hated his guts. Hugh was getting married. And Marcus...

“Will!”

Marcus was apparently on his way up the stairs.

Because he was a _very_ good neighbor and also really tired, Will didn't tell the kid to go back where he came from. But he was going to have to put his foot down on the whole trespassing thing. “Dude, your mom's gonna _freak_ if she finds out you're over here again,” he yawned, thumbing his phone on. When the screen finally lit up with 104 unseen messages, he threw it across the room.

Marcus raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. He'd even stopped at a nice, fairly respectful distance just inside the doorway. “Don't worry, I'm not planning on staying long; I have to get back in a few minutes to get ready for the wedding. I just wanted to make sure you weren't dead or something; you haven't answered any of my messages.”

“I was asleep, Marcus. And I'm setting boundaries.”

The smile Marcus gave him was too happy, when related back to the statement he'd just made. “That's very healthy of you, Will. Very adult. I'm proud of you.”

“And while I do live for your approval, one of my boundaries involves uninvited guests walking into my bedroom before I'm fully awake, so...” He made a shooing motion with his hands.

“Oh, right, sorry.” Marcus took two steps back to be on the other side of the door. Which was a very literal, very Marcus thing to do. One of these days, Will was really going to teach him how to read subtlety. “Anyways, I wanted to make sure you were still alive, and see if you had reconsidered apologizing to my mom.”

And there it was.

Will scrubbed a hand over his face. _No caring. No feeling._ “Dude, I didn't say anything to your mom that wasn't justified or the truth. I could probably have been...less abrasive, but this really isn't about me. I can't fix all of your mom's problems.”

“Oh.” Marcus was quiet for a moment. Most likely, he was considering this possibility for the first time. But then his expression morphed into one of thoughtfulness, which Will had learned to dread about eighty percent of the time. It was too early for serious talks. “She's upset because of my dad, isn't she?”

That was...surprisingly insightful, considering the lengths that Fiona had always gone to hide that from him. “What, uh, what makes you say that?”

“She's acting differently around him then she used to. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't like Helga, either. When they arrived, I didn't think it would be that big of a deal; she and my dad were never actually married anyways. But for some reason it really seems to bother her. And when Dad asked if she'd be a witness at their wedding, she started crying again.”

“Wait, he actually asked her that?” Will sat straight up, adrenaline shocking him into full alertness. “Your dad asked her to be at his wedding?” Clearly his little talk with Hugh the night before had done exactly _nothing_ of use.

“Yeah. I think he's actually a little annoyed that she isn't coming. He says he wants her to be happy for him, and he doesn't understand why she'd be upset that he's getting married.”

If Will called Laurie right now, he'd bet he could convince her to poison Hugh on Fiona's behalf (the trick would be stopping her from poisoning _him_ , too). She'd probably even enjoy it. And no one would be able to pin it on them. “Marcus, your dad...” deserved so much worse than Will was about to give him. “...your dad is really smart about a lot of things, but people isn't one of them. He isn't smart about your mom, either.”

“As I grow older, I am coming understand the accuracy of this statement,” Marcus nodded. But he looked torn. “Should I not go either, then? Because I don't care if he marries Helga. I mean love him, but I don't think that he'd...well, _fit_ with us anymore. I actually think it would be really weird if he married Mom now.”

Will shuddered. _So weird_. “Yes, yes it would.”

“Anyways, I'm happy that he's happy, but I don't want to make my mom more upset. Should I just forget the whole thing?”

Will had never been much for religion, but he decided in that moment that he deserved to be a _saint_ for what he was doing. “No, you should go.” Gosh, it made him sick just to say it. He was possibly going to throw up. “It seems like it's really important to your dad for you to be there, and this is only like the second time I've ever seen him really _try_. Your mom will understand. Just don't tell her it was _my_ advice.”

“My lips are sealed.” Marcus mimed zipping a zipper, and he seemed more relaxed than he had a moment ago. “Thanks, Will. Now I'd better get back before they come looking for me. I'll text you!”

“Yeah, sure,” Will fell back against the pillows as Marcus's footsteps faded away. “Whatever, dude.” Now that the initial adrenaline rush had passed, he felt like he needed a nap. The constant handing out of advice and saintly good deeds was hard work.

“...Yeah, just a quick nap. And then maybe a bagel run.”

–

There was a very annoying, tinny ringing sound coming from the vicinity of his closet. Groaning, Will stuffed a pillow over his face. It was too early for this. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled. “Jus' five more minutes an' I'll get up.”

The ringing didn't seem interested in the deal.

Sighing, cursing to himself, Will stumbled out of bed and started rooting around in the semi-darkness of his closet for the elusive phone. He should have just left the damn thing off. Why was it even still ringing, anyways? It should have gone to voicemail by now.

He finally located the device tangled up in a pair of sweatpants, and hit _answer_ before he really registered the caller ID. “Hello?” he groaned, rubbing his eyes. He felt _awful_.

“Will! Thank God you finally answered, I've been calling for like twenty minutes!”

“Wait, Marcus?” He was going to have to sit the kid down and have a nice long talk about the definition of “boundaries”. “Slow down, buddy, I can barely hear you. What's up, how was the wedding?”

“That's not important right now, Will. I think something happened to my mom!”

The instinctive dismissal died on Will's lips. Something in the kid's voice told him that this was not just an over-reaction. “What do you mean, what happened?”

“I was texting her from the courthouse, just to make sure she was okay, you know? And then suddenly she just _stopped_. It's been almost an hour, I've texted her and I've called her and she won't pick up. You know my mom, Will. She _never_ doesn't text back. I'm really worried that something terrible happened to her!”

“Okay, Marcus? Listen to me. Don't panic, alright? I'm gonna go over to your house right now to make sure she's okay. Everything's gonna be fine.” He tugged on a pair of sweatpants and shoved his feet into sneakers on the way down the stairs. Miraculously, he didn't kill himself in the process. _Okay, the dumbwaiter_. That was the quickest way.

Why did it have to be such a small space?

“What if something really horrible did happen to her? What if someone broke into the house and murdered her, or kidnapped her? And it's all my fault because I left her alone!”

“Dude, don't do that to yourself! Nothing is your fault.” On the third try, Will managed to get himself through the dumbwaiter. There were no immediate signs of Fiona. “That is the opposite of not panicking. Your mom is gonna be just fine, she probably just fell asleep or something.

“That's what dad said. But I just _know_ that something isn't right, Will.”

“Well, whatever's not right, I'll fix it. You can count on me. Where is your dad, anyways? Did you tell him about this?”

“He and Helga are still eating lunch. I had to hide in the bathroom to call you.”

Fiona wasn't downstairs. Will headed up the steps towards the bedrooms, praying that the nap theory would pan out. “You should probably tell him,” he advised. No luck in Marcus's room. “It's his job to be there for you and help you deal with stuff like this.”

“When I tried to explain it to him, he told me I was over-reacting and said I should eat my lunch.”

And no luck in her bedroom, either. That was the whole house. Will sat down on the edge of the bed, wracking his brain for options and trying not to let his worry bleed into his tone. “Well he's _wrong_ , Marcus. What's important to you should be important to him, whether he thinks you're right or not. And, while I can't believe I'm saying this, I do hope that he's right this time. I hope there's nothing to worry about; but until he knows that for sure he shouldn't be treating you that way. He really shouldn't ever treat you that way, but that's not even the point right now.” He glanced out the window, hoping for inspiration, and saw something bright fluttering in the tree house. _Bingo_. “You know I try not to say anything bad about your dad because I know you love him, but this isn't okay.”

“I didn't know what to do.” Marcus sounded close to tears. “I didn't know what to do, that's why I called you.”

Will was taking the stairs two at a time while trying not to sound breathless. “You did the right thing, buddy. I'm here for you.” Screw it. He wasn't an island, he was a freaking destination. With feelings. And an unreasonable amount off fear about what he would find.

Fiona was lying just inside the tree house, the edge of her skirt fluttering in the doorway. There was a bottle of medicine that Will didn't recognize the name of, pills spilled out to the side, and a nearly-empty bottle of that awful wine she drank clutched in one limp hand. She barely seemed to be breathing.

_Crap._

“Uh, Marcus, I'm gonna have to call you back.”

“What happened? Did you find her? Is she dead? I'm too young to lose a mother!”

“She's _not_ dead,” Will stressed, kneeling to do all of those little half-remembered things that Dr. Sam had taught him, like checking her pulse. He was no expert, but it seemed very wrong. “But I think she might be pretty sick. I'm gonna call an ambulance, okay? I don't want you to worry, though, I'll stay with her the whole time and text you updates. She's gonna be fine.”

“Please take care of her, Will.”

“I will, I promise.” Will hung up and dialed 911. _Fiona, what were you thinking?_

“Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?”

“Uh, hi. My name is Will, Will Freeman. Um, I just found my neighbor unconscious in the back yard. It looks like she accidentally mixed meds and alcohol? She's breathing, but she's unconscious; and her pulse is like, really weird. Can you just send an ambulance out here as fast as possible?” He rattled off the address and went on to describe the situation as he swept all the little pills back into the bottle and tucked it into his pocket. No reason for Marcus to know about that part.

The woman on the phone was giving him instructions about what to do until the ambulance arrived, and Will did exactly as he was told. Nothing else was going to happen. Fiona had to be fine; he'd promised.

–

The waiting was the hardest part. Since Will wasn't technically family, he was forced to wait outside while the doctors took her away to do...whatever it was they had to do. Will wasn't really sure what the correct treatment was for an accidental overdose, plus wine, but he trusted the staff at this hospital. (He would have trusted Sam more, but she was in New York. She _had_ answered his frantic text with sympathy and concern, and to inform him that the mysterious, unpronounceable pills were a prescription-only anti-depressant.)

As promised, he kept Marcus informed of everything that he knew – Fiona was unresponsive but stable – and promised to call Andy to give him a ride up to the hospital if Hugh didn't want to. (He would probably call Andy anyways.) He didn't mention the pills.

When they finally told him he could see her, Will almost fainted from relief.

“She's awake now,” the doctor told him before he went in, “but she's very tired. She's lucky you were there, son; from what she told us, what happened was an accident, but if you hadn't found her when you did this could have been much worse. She might have died.”

If Marcus hadn't called him... “Yeah, I'd rather not think about that.” The doctor gave him a sympathetic smile, and left him alone.

The face Fiona made when she saw him wasn't precisely a smile, but it wasn't a burning glare of hatred, doom, and death, either. “Bloody hell,” she muttered.

“Hello to you too, and you're so very welcome for saving your life, I was happy to help.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “You give yourself far too much credit.”

“You're right.” Will sat down in the hard plastic chair by her bed. “Marcus is the one who deserves all the credit; he called me when you stopped answering his texts because he knew something was wrong.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, Marcus knows? Is he okay? Oh, he must have been absolutely terrified! You didn't tell him, did you? Is he here?”

“Whoa! Relax.” Will put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently back against the pillows. “Marcus is fine, Andy is bringing him over in a little while. And I did _not_ tell him that you almost OD'ed. But we _are_ going to talk about that, because what the hell, Fiona?” He shook the little bottle of pills accusingly. She didn't get to avoid this. “Why did you do it? Is it about Hugh? Because I can tell you right now, he is _not_ worth your life.”

“It wasn't a suicide! Bloody hell, Will, who do you think I am?”

“You OD'ed on anti-depressants and bad wine.”

“It was an _accident_. You always have to think the worst, don't you?” She sighed, and her eyes filled with tears. But she managed to hold herself together. “Yes, I was drinking because I was upset about Hugh. It's not pretty, but under the circumstances I'm just glad it wasn't worse.”

“And I get that. But the meds, Fiona?” He hadn't even known she was on anything. Wasn't that something that he, as a neighbor and friend, would have been aware of?

Fiona bit her lip. “Those pills were from when we first came to San Francisco. You may recall my son so tactfully announcing to you that I was struggling with depression at the time. I'd gotten the prescription right before we moved; but I never used them, because of my mistrust of western medicine.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “Western medicine did just save your life, you know,” he pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. “ _Anyways_. I never took them, and rather forgot that I even had them until this afternoon. By then everyone had already left and I figured, what the hell? It couldn't hurt to try them out. That's what they're supposed to be for, right?”

“But you took too many.”

“But I was drinking and lost track and took too many.” She closed her eyes and took a few shaky breaths. “Look, I'm not proud of it, okay? I made a stupid, terrible mistake. But all I care about right now is that Marcus and Hugh not find out; I don't _ever_ want my son to look at me the way you just did.”

“Of course I won't tell Marcus,” Will promised. “Like you said, it was an accident, and knowing would only stress him out.” He paused, sensing that he was at something of a crossroads; from this point forward he had two choices. He could play it safe and give her the answers that she wanted to hear. It was an easy choice. Or, he could take advantage of this moment of vulnerability to tell her the truth, while basically giving a middle finger to island life.

He chose the second one. “But why are you still trying to protect Hugh?”

She frowned at him.”This time yesterday you said I shouldn't be selfish, that I should help him,” she pointed out accusingly.

“This time yesterday I wasn't thinking about anyone but myself,” Will countered, “and look where that got us. I'm at least a little responsible for this, Fiona.”

“Oh please, like you're important enough for me to shed a tear over.”

“Maybe not. But I _did_ tell you to let Hugh stay, and it's because of Hugh and Helga and probably even me that you got so depressed and made stupid mistakes. But the thing is, I was wrong. Not that I want Hugh staying in my house either – he's an adult, he can make his own arrangements – but telling you to suck it up and deal with it was wrong and I'm sorry.

“Also, what he's doing just by being here, bringing Helga, it's not fair to you. You should never have been in this position in the first place. He shouldn't have asked you to come to his wedding – like seriously, who does stuff like that? – and he should have paid attention when Marcus was worried and _done_ something about it; instead, he and Helga sat in a restaurant and finished their lunch. I know you don't like hearing about all the stuff he's doing wrong, or talking about it, but you need to. He's _wrong_. And you deserve so much better than that, Fiona.”

She was crying now, not hysterical but slow and quiet, heavy tears. Her eyes unfocused, staring at the wall instead of him. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

“Yeah I do.” Will squeezed her hand and leaned into her line of vision. And at that moment he officially gave up all pretense of ever even pretending not to care. There was no turning back after this. “Fiona, listen to me. You deserve _so much better_.”

“Mom!” Will jerked back just in time to avoid being plowed into by Marcus, who had thrown himself into Fiona's arms. And she was smiling and laughing through her tears now, covering him with kisses and holding him tight. “Mom, I was so worried about you!”

“It's okay, darling! I'm fine. Look at me, see? I'm going to be absolutely fine. I just ate some bad tofu is all. But I am so _proud_ of you for being so incredibly brave, and smart, and looking out for me.”

“I'm just glad you're okay.”

Will slipped out quietly and shut the door. They deserved some privacy.

Andy was waiting in the hall, his posse of children in tow. One of them was carrying a large, fluffy gift-shop bear with a heart on its chest.

He'd never been more grateful to see the little monsters.

“Thanks for coming, Andy.”

“It was no problem, man.” This time Andy went in for the hug, and forced Will into it in spite of the screaming baby. “Is it too soon to say I told you so?”

Will raised an eyebrow. “A little bit, yeah.”

“Sorry.” Andy finally let him go, and the screaming stopped. “So, how's she doing? How are _you_ doing? That was a pretty big, brave thing you did.”

“Yeah, it was.” Speaking of, Will was suddenly feeling kind of light-headed. “I actually think I might pass out. Wow! Okay, yeah, I'm definitely light-headed. Can someone get me a drink?”

“Try this.” Andy handed him a sippy cup.

Will eyed it suspiciously. “Ew, gross, a kid's mouth touched that!”

“It's apple juice, dude. And it's not even that gross.”

Closing his eyes, trying not to think too hard, Will managed to down the liquid. It was exactly as disgusting as he'd feared; but fainting in the hallway didn't exactly give off a “manly” vibe, so he managed to stay conscious. “Okay, that was exactly as gross as I thought it would be.” He grimaced. “What was your question again?”

Andy shook his head, but he seemed more amused than annoyed. “How is Fiona?”

“She's doing okay.” Will glanced towards the door, picturing her and Marcus inside. “She's pretty shaken up, and a little embarrassed, but I think she's going to be okay.”

“And what about you?”

Okay, Andy really needed to stop looking at him like that. It was creepy. “Well, I've learned that I'm probably never going to be an island,” he shrugged. The realization had been less upsetting than he'd expected. “At least, not one without inhabitants, trespassers, tourists, and shipwrecks washing up on the beach. But I'm hoping that I can still set some healthy boundaries in there somewhere?”

“That's...oddly adult of you, Will.”

“Where the hell is Fifi?”

Will clenched his fist and took a deep breath. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Remember that you're setting boundaries!” Andy hissed, before herding his kids down the hall towards the vending machines.

God bless Andy.

Slowly, with what he thought was remarkable patience, Will turned around to face Hugh. “ _Fiona_ is with Marcus right now, Hugh. I think that we should give them some privacy considering what they've both just been through.”

The man glared at Will, and drew himself up to his full height. It was probably some sort of penguin intimidation technique, though Will was basing that assumption primarily on the fact that it wasn't working. “You're not a part of this family, Will. I do appreciate what you did for Fifi today, but your services are no longer required here.”

“Dude, stop calling her that! Oh my gosh, and to think she fell for someone like you even for a second?”

Hugh was visibly taken aback. “I don't believe I like your tone, Will.”

“Screw you.” Will lowered his voice, if only so Marcus and Fiona wouldn't hear him yelling. He was done being nice to selfish assholes. “Look, I hate to break it to you, man, but you're not a part of that family, either. Your son was worried about his mom – which was a valid fear, by the way, seeing as she almost _died_ as a result of your emotional abuse! – and you basically told him to shut up and eat his dinner. That's _not_ what a father does!”

Shock and hurt twisted Hugh's face, edged with something closer to actual remorse. “I never abused Fifi – _Fiona_. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

The crazy part was, Will actually believed him. “Not intentionally, maybe. But you're so wrapped up in yourself that you never even knew. I bet it didn't occur to you that she might have been crying yesterday because she still had feelings for you, and it _hurt_ to watch you and Helga running around planning your wedding? Or that it bothers her that you've never in your life for more than a _day_ taken an interest in your own son?”

It all seemed to be sinking in, finally. He was displaying more concern than Will had ever seen him show another human before, at least. “Did she really try to kill herself?” he asked, very softly.

Will sighed. He could lie; Hugh deserved to feel that guilty. But it wasn't fair to Fiona to use her life to do it. “No, she didn't. But she drank a lot, and she took some pills by mistake, and here we are. And if you ever mention that to Marcus, by the way, there won't be a place on Earth you can hide. Antarctica isn't far enough.”

Hugh frowned. “Are you threatening me, Will?”

“Am I threatening you? No, no I am not. But Fiona is way more terrifying than I am, and she doesn't want Marcus to know. Just remember that.”

“I didn't mean for any of this to happen, you know. I didn't want to hurt anybody.”

“Yeah, but you did.” Will shrugged. “Fiona and Marcus, they deserve better than that.”

Hugh smiled, a sad, weird sort of thing. For the first time, Will almost felt sorry for him. “I guess it's a good thing they have you then, isn't it?”

_I'm no better_. But Will didn't say that, if only because hearing it from Hugh he could kind of believe it. And it was a little bit satisfying. “Try apologizing,” he suggested instead of acknowledging the almost-compliment, because Will was trying to be the bigger man today. “It's obvious in your own weird, super dysfunctional way that you do care about them, so do better. It's a start.”

The look on Hugh's face wasn't entirely convinced, but Will had hopes he'd do the right thing.

–

Fiona stayed the night at the hospital for observation. Nobody told Marcus about the pills, blaming everything on food poisoning and bad tofu. As mature as he acted, he was only twelve; that wasn't something he needed to carry, even though everything had been an accident. He and Will stayed at Andy's house for the night. They were both a little uncomfortable going back to their house alone. After eventually talking to Fiona, Hugh announced that he and Helga would be leaving a day early so as not to get “underfoot”.

Nobody was really sorry to see them go.

Will was elected to pick Fiona up from the hospital the next morning, while Andy and Laurie took Marcus home to prepare a welcome home celebration. “Remember, you need to take at least an hour, Will, otherwise we won't be ready,” Marcus cautioned. He was really serious about this whole thing, and he wanted it to be a complete surprise. It must have been killing him inside to not tell Fiona, but he was doing pretty well with it.

If only that didn't mean _Will_ had more work to do.

“Dude, the hospital is only like, twenty minutes away.”

“One. Hour.”

“On second thought, an hour sounds perfect.”

Fiona looked better than she had the night before. With no makeup on, Will could see how tired she was, but she still looked a hundred times better when she wasn't passed out or curled up in a hospital bed. That was a relief. It also helped to erase those mental images when she looked up and rolled her eyes when she saw him. _Some things never changed_. “Oh, bloody hell.” At least her wit and sarcasm were still intact. Oh joy.

“You know, if you keep that up I'm going to have to come up with something equally rude and obscure to greet you with.” He pulled her into a gentle hug, shooting for “casual with a heart”. “I just want you to be aware of that.”

She huffed. “Bloody hell is not an obscure phrase.”

“Yeah, this is America, Fiona. It's not Dickensian England. Come on, we've got a few stops to make before we head back to the house.”

“Can't your little errands wait until after I'm home and reunited with my son?”

“Fiona, you guys have talked on the phone like, three times this morning.” All before he'd even left the house. “I think you'll survive for five extra minutes while I pick up my bagels.”

She jabbed a finger at him. “Not a second more,” she said firmly, “or else I'm stealing your car.”

“Duly noted, Grand Theft Auto. Now get in.” He opened the door with grand, gentlemanly flair. It earned him more eye-rolling and a chuckle. Will very deliberately Did Not Wonder if Hugh had ever even thought to do that.

They managed to keep up a steady stream of banter in the car, all light and snappy. They very deliberately avoided talking about the night before. And, of course, on the day that they needed to take their time getting home, it was the only day in the history of ever that there was no traffic anywhere in San Francisco. When he had purchased his bagels and realized he'd only left the house half an hour ago, Will realized that he'd need to get creative. “Hey, I just got a text from Andy when I was in the bagel shop; there's one more thing we need to pick up before we can head back.”

“Will! You said five minutes.”

“I know, I'm sorry. It's just that Marcus and I stayed with them last night – the house was too empty, you know? – and Laurie has apparently been making veiled threats about my life if I'm ungrateful, all morning. So. We need to pick up a bottle of wine or something so she doesn't tear my face off.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow. “Laurie's still breastfeeding, isn't she? She can't drink right now.”

Oh, was that a thing? Oops. “Well, it's a promise of things to come, then. It'll only take like, ten minutes, tops. _Please_?” He folded his hands under his chin, and arranged his features in his most convincing pout.

“No grown man should be able to make such a heartbreaking puppy dog face,” Fiona chuckled, shaking her head.

“But is it working?”

“It's embarrassing,” she stressed. “But, Laurie does deserve a sainthood for putting up with you. Oh, come on, we had better get it over with.”

Between travel time and dragging Fiona around the liquor store (Will wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't steal his car), the trip managed to stretch itself into almost forty-five minutes. Most of which was spent bickering. They argued about what Laurie would like best, and how organic it was, and how much it would cost (“aren't you still being sued?”). It was an impressively long argument. Will was proud.

Towards the end, though Will could see that Fiona was getting suspicious. At least Marcus would have had plenty of time to get set up by now. Time to drop the game.

“You know what? I think I will go with that one after all.” He grabbed the bottle that she'd been pushing him to buy for for the last ten minutes, and headed for the counter. “I don't even like Laurie that much, and I just remembered that I have a hair appointment this afternoon. If I'm late, he's going to give away my slot! Besides, didn't you want to get back to Marcus?”

Fiona narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Will, what's going on?”

“No time to talk now; gotta get home!”

“You're insane,” she sighed. But she gave up asking, and instead spent the car ride home fondly berating him about his spending habits. It felt almost domestic.

Will was never admitting that to anyone, _ever_.

–

Marcus's surprise party was a complete success. He'd somehow managed to wrangle Andy's brood into all being useful, and Shea had apparently showed up to help. Hugh and Helga, of course, were long gone, probably halfway back to Antarctica by now. As far as Will was concerned, that only made the success that much better.

(Will did wonder how Fiona felt about it. He didn't ask.)

Once he was sure that everything was going to go smoothly, however, Will begged out of the shindig. Parties were fine, but he liked grilling _steaks_ , not zucchini. And cleanup duty really wasn't his thing. And he really _did_ have a hair appointment.

To be perfectly honest – something he tried never to do if he could help it – Will was emotionally exhausted. He had a very limited reserve of emotional energy, and he'd depleted that like, yesterday. Until he had a chance to recharge, it was going to be a real challenge to be social with these people (with any people really, but these people in particular). He decided it was probably best if he kept his distance.

Yeah. He needed like, a week alone with his Asiagos. And beer...and maybe some hot wings? Anything that didn't talk back would be a real step up.

–

Will made sure not to get home until after Andy and his family had left, and the Bowas had turned in for the night. After a lengthy mental debate, he'd gone back out to pick up hot wings, just to be safe. He was just getting comfortable on his couch when there was a knock on his door. Will almost ignored it. It wasn't that he wanted to be rude, but it had been a very long couple of days and he was still very certain he wasn't ready to deal with people at the moment. Maybe if he was very quiet, whoever it was would go away. But, because it was his life and that meant Murphy was making the rules, the knocking continued.

It was Fiona.

“Bloody hell,” he chuckled before she had a chance to speak. She blinked. Will realized that it might not have been the most tactful greeting. “Wow, that sounds so much weirder in American, sorry. It just...I thought it felt right in the moment, you know? But it wasn't. I'm sorry. Ah, would you like to come in?”

“Thanks.” But she didn't come very far in, which was weird for Fiona. Usually she barged right through and made herself at home.

Will frowned. “Is everything...okay?” he asked carefully, shutting the door. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on, and he didn't want to say the wrong thing. They'd done too much of that already this weekend. (This year. Since they'd met. )“You seem like you've got something on your mind.”

It took her a couple of tries to get it right. “I wanted to thank you,” she managed finally, “for not telling Marcus what I did. You know that I normally advocate truth in all situations, but...he doesn't need...I mean, if he looked at me like you...anyways, I appreciate it. Thanks. Thank you.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” This was weird. Fiona didn't do vulnerable like this; in other parts of her life maybe, but not with Will. Their relationship was composed mainly of witty banter and one-upmanship. Not feelings (except when there were). The near-death thing must have really freaked her out. “You know I'd do anything to help the little dude.”

“Yes, well...” She trailed off like she'd lost her train of thought, and made no effort to pick it back up. On the counter, Will's wings were getting cold.

He finally realized that he was going to have to guide the conversation. “So, um...you still seem kind of concerned. Or something. Are you sure you're okay?”

She bit her lip. “Did you really mean the thing you said to me at the hospital last night?”

Okay. Sure, why not just jump right in with the serious talks? Because Will was totally emotionally ready for that. “Would you be more specific? I said a lot of things.”

“The part...” It was obvious she was getting emotional, and trying to hold it back. He could see it in the way she avoided eye contact. Her arms were crossed over her chest like a shield. “...the bit about deserving better. Did you mean that part?”

What sort of question was that? “Of course I did.”

“Because I understand if you don't,” she said in a rush. “You know, some people say what they think you want to hear instead of what they're actually thinking, especially if they know you're having a hard time. And I don't want you to feel like you _have_ to say things like that; you can be honest with me, and I know that –”

Will leaned in and kissed her. It was probably the worst move he could have made in response, but she could spend forever going doing that rabbit hole. Kissing seemed like the fastest way of cutting her off before she got that far. It had worked at the dance; it had worked most times Will had tried it with girls, actually.

It lasted for maybe three seconds, just long enough to shock her into silence. “Of course I meant it,” he promised when he pulled away. She was giving him a very odd look. “It's the truth. I would never lie to you about that, Fiona.”

Maybe the shock had been a little too much; she seemed to be struggling to find words. The ones that eventually came out of her mouth were terrifying. “I know this goes against almost everything I believe,” she whispered very softly, “but I think I'd like to do that again.”

_Crap_. Definitely the wrong move. All kinds of mixed signals, he should have known better than that. Will felt he could say with confidence that it had been a very bad idea, though not for the reasons it would have been even a month ago. There was really no way to soften the blow, even if he was doing the right thing. And saying it was going to _suck_. “Fiona, I can't.”

She looked surprisingly devastated for someone who, just a month ago, would never have even dreamed of kissing someone like him. “Why?” she demanded. “Is it because I'm not like Liz or Dr. Sam? I'm not intelligent or successful enough for you? Or is it that I'm not dumbed-down like most of the girls who pass through here? I'm not young and blonde and beautiful like Helga, is that it? That's what got Hugh, isn't it? The two of you are like peas in a pod, both having me on –”

“ _Fiona_.” He caught her by the arm, forced her to make eye contact. It was terrifying how fragile she looked. (Sometime soon, when she was in a more stable emotional place, they were going to have to sit down and have a serious talk about her lack of self-esteem.) “It has nothing to do with _any_ of that! Hell, I actually _like_ you; and that's more of a surprise to me than anyone. But it has nothing to do with how old or young or beautiful or intelligent you are; and you are very smart and beautiful. I can't though, Fiona. I really can't.”

“Why not?” she was confused and broken, and since when was Will the adult in this dynamic? Adulting sucked.

Will sighed. He barely understood it himself. How did he explain it to her if she didn't understand already? It wasn't like she didn't know what he was. This was because he _did_ care about her, not because he didn't. “Because you still deserve _more_ , Fiona,” he finally said. “You deserve better than me, too.”

Her eyes widened in what might have been amazement or horror, it was hard to tell. Will watched her run through and discard a dozen reactions in her head, all flashing through her eyes. It went on long enough that he started to grow concerned. “Okay, so is it like, your reaction to not have a reaction? Because while it's a bold choice and I like it, saying _something_ would really be appreciated. Anything. Unless you want me to stand here all night wondering if I'm an idiot?”

Normally, Fiona would have said something witty, like, “Of course you're a bloody idiot, no need to wonder about that!” But this wasn't normal Fiona. (and the fact that Will could even use “normal” and “Fiona” in the same sentence hinted at some interesting things that he wasn't ready to acknowledge yet.)

Silence stretched between them, begging to be filled. “Gosh, will you at least say something?”

“I...no one has ever told me that before,” she said slowly. One hand fooled restlessly with the pendant on her necklace, and her eyes kept flickering between his face and the middle distance. Will instinctively braced himself. “I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to feel.” Brief eye contact. “What do you suppose that means for me? Us. Are we an us?”

“We're...well, we're something.” Will scrubbed a hand over his face. “Definitely a something. But I don't think it's an “us” in the way that you're meaning “us”. We're family? People say that you don't ever get to choose your family, but I think we proved them wrong.”

She chewed her lip nervously. “But not an “us”?”

“Not yet, I don't think.”

“Do you...suppose there will ever be? Or are all of these feelings just a result of accidentally almost dying, life is short and all that? Am I crazy?”

“Of course you're not. Well, not because of this, at least; I can't make any snap judgments about the whole vegan thing.” That earned him a chuckle, which was progress in the emotional stability department. Will could work with that. “Look, Fiona, I don't know. This whole _feelings_ thing, it's pretty new for me. You know, you've watched me stumble around in it the past couple of years. And the truth, the honest truth, is that I don't understand it any more than you do. Could it happen, one day? Maybe. But will it? I don't know. It could; but not right now. I wasn't kidding before, you deserve the very best of the best, and I am definitely not that.”

“I don't need perfect.”

“And see?” Will jabbed a finger at her. “That attitude right there, where you settle because you don't believe that you deserve stuff! That's gotta change. Nobody is perfect, but you should damn well be looking for the closest thing to it.” A week ago, Will would have said that was himself, and very nearly meant it. But while in comparison to Hugh he thought he was doing okay, all it took was looking at Andy and his family to realize how incredibly not-together his life was. “And I...I need to change. If there's one thing that I've learned in the past two years – other than how impossible it is to be an island with neighbors – it's that I have a lot of growing up to do. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not even taking care of myself terribly well right now. How can I take care of anyone else?”

“So not an “us”, then.”

“Not _yet_ ,” he stressed, and a part of him couldn't believe he was having this conversation and meaning it. When the Bowas had moved in two years ago he never would have thought it was remotely possible. But, neither had she. “Ask me again some time.”

“I'll do that.” She smiled crookedly. “Thank God Marcus is asleep, eh? Otherwise we'd never hear about anything else.”

“I have never been more thankful for anything in my entire life.” Will put an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him. It felt...nice. Different. None of his girlfriends had ever felt quite the way that Fiona did; certainly not Dakota, not Liz, not Sam. This was something new. It was going to take him a while to figure out how to actually quantify it.

They kind of just stood there together for a while, until it got awkward. “So...what do we do now?” Fiona asked eventually, looking up at him.

Will frowned thoughtfully. “Well, I mean, you _did_ come over here and interrupt my dinner...can I offer you some hot wings?”

She scoffed, and ducked away from him. “Oh, bloody hell!” But halfway through the door she stopped, and turned back to him, and looked as serious as she ever had. Her eyes crinkled around the edges. “Do better, Will.”

“I will.” And when he searched himself for sincerity, he found that he wasn't even lying a little bit.

It was a promising start. 

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> I have a chronic inability to decide how I feel about the idea of Will/Fiona. Part of the reason I started writing this was to figure out through the process if I shipped it or not. I came out on the other side still not sure. I can see it both ways, and I honestly don't know which I'd prefer. But, for me, this was just a bit more closure than "they kissed now let's cancel the show and never address it". I needed this. Hope someone out there enjoyed it! 
> 
> Peace. (:


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